


The New Master

by zaffrin



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (I feel like that needs a tag), Aliens, Alpha Master, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, BDSM themes, Biting, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Bondage, Omega Thirteen, Omegaverse, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, The Master is a Bastard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffrin/pseuds/zaffrin
Summary: She couldn’t let them take Yaz. There was no way she would even consider it for a moment. They didn’t want her in exchange - they wanted ‘young and fresh’, and the Doctor’s current self was apparently a little too mature for their tastes - that was until she let them get close enough to scent her, concentrating to secrete the scent from her glands she usually kept in, and they had let go of Yaz abruptly, nudging each other.“Omega.”Or: the Doctor is captured and sold at an auction. Guess who buys her?
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Original Female Character(s), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

She hadn’t had a choice. Yaz was _nineteen_ , she had taken her here, along with Ryan and Graham, knowing the dangers that lurked in this part of the galaxy - but the Doctor had been so swept up in showing off, unable to resist taking her friends to the biggest intergalactic alien shopping center in the universe for an afternoon. And she’d been so busy talking a mile a minute about the stall with gems that glowed in the dark and could only be harvested from one cliff in the galaxy as she’d led them down small winding streets, she hadn’t even noticed that they were being followed until six men in black cloaks had knocked out Ryan and Graham and grabbed Yaz. 

She couldn’t let them take her. There was no way she would even consider it for a moment. They didn’t want her in exchange - they wanted ‘ _young and fresh’,_ and the Doctor’s current self was apparently a little too mature for their tastes - that was until she let them get close enough to scent her, concentrating to secrete the scent from her glands she usually kept in, and they had let go of Yaz abruptly, nudging each other. 

“ _Omega.”_

The low mutter went round the group of thugs. 

That was three days ago. Her fam will have got home if they’d gone back to the Tardis like she’d yelled at them as they’d dragged her off and engaged the emergency protocol she had installed to take them home. That, at least, is a small mercy she can be contented with as she’s wrestled into a sheer dress and dragged out onto a wooden platform in a vast, busy marketplace.

She’d been kept in what only could be described as a _cage_ for the last three days alone, away from any other ‘merchandise’, as she’d heard them referred to. She’s not stupid - she knows why that is. Omegas were rare - in this part and century of the galaxy especially. A mere hundred years after the protection laws were passed, the illegal trade in them is booming in this time period, and she knows how coveted they are. It’s why she’s been so damn careful to keep herself dosed up on suppressants and not to let _anyone_ get a whiff of her new scent this time around. 

Predictably, she hasn’t been given any here. Which means it’s three days since her last dose, and the Doctor is getting increasingly anxious about how much longer until her heat breaks. It tended to be the way when one remained permanently on suppressants, coming off them abruptly usually resulted in triggering a heat. She has _got_ to find a way out of this situation before that happens.

An auction is taking place across the square, and the platforms around are full of people - of all species and designations, from the looks of it - similarly in chains. On display, so that potential customers might appraise the ‘goods’ before they go up to auction. It was disgusting. 

There are five others on her platform, all female and humanoid looking, but from what the Doctor can tell, she’s the only omega. There’s a tiny beta girl with red hair who looks scared half to death to her left, and four others that seem to not have any designations. At least two she’s certain are human, and the slim, dark haired girl with brown skin and wide, frightened eyes makes her think of Yaz, and she is glad she’s safe at least, away from this decrepit place. 

A few people step up to look at her. Her seller is boasting loudly about the omega he has for sale, but the Doctor is not stupid; she refuses to let even a hint of her scent permeate the air, and each potential buyer who steps up towards her merely gives a sniff and moves on, cursing the seller. One even spits at his feet and calls him a liar, and the Doctor bites back a smile. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He hisses in her ear when another man passes them by. He grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks her head back, sniffing deeply by her neck. The Doctor refuses to blink, keeping a careful check on her scent glands. “I could smell you in the market, clear as day - was this a trick?”

She doesn’t answer. 

Another yank on her hair, and she winces, but is careful not to show the flash of pain on her face. “You better start attracting some buyers, _omega,”_ he threatens, and then, to the Doctor’s horror, he spitefully rips the sheer dress from her body, leaving her bare to everyone around and giving her a shove with his hand, sending her stumbling forwards to the front of the platform. 

“See here, this rare and beautiful omega I have for sale!” He calls out. 

“Omega, huh?”

At that voice, the Doctor’s head whips round, her eyes widening and insides going cold as a horribly familiar figure climbs the steps up onto the platform. 

_Like this could get any worse!_ She thinks disbelievingly as her eyes lock with the Master’s. She sees his gaze flicker down over her bare form, an amused smirk tugging at his lips, and her face burns hot. It’s not that she’s ever been shy, or particularly _cared_ about nudity - but there was something distinctly humiliating about being naked on display here, like she is nothing more than a piece of meat for sale. Which, she supposes, she technically _is_ right now. She suppresses a shiver as the Master steps up in front of her and the seller, and takes his sweet time casting his gaze over her. _Bastard_ , she thinks. 

“An omega, yes sir!” The slimy man behind her enthuses. “She - she may not smell like one currently, but I can assure you, I have scented her myself and she is _quite_ exquisite! For an alpha like yourself, she’d be a rare prize indeed!” 

“Hmm,” he comments, leaning in a bit and sniffing. The seller shuffles nervously behind her. 

“And… and she’s quite the beauty, eh?”

The Master shrugs. “Eh. She’s tolerable, I suppose.”

The Doctor scowls. Oh she _hates_ him. Clearly enjoying this far too much, he reaches out to touch her hair, running a strand through his fingers like he is inspecting its quality, then reaching further down, touching her stomach, giving her hip a squeeze before letting his hand glide back up, ‘accidentally’ brushing one of her nipples on the way before her curls his fingers round her neck. 

She’s just about to yank away from him, consequences be damned, when his fingers expertly find the scent gland on the side of her neck just under her jaw, and dig in. 

She gasps as he presses his fingertips into her gland, trying to shrink away from the pressure as her scent bursts out, knees going weak as he forces her baser instincts to the surface, squeezing the scent from her until at all eyes within a ten metre radius are on her. She can scent him now too - _the Master._ He must be doing it on purpose, because she gasps, dragging in a lungful of air and almost choking on the potent scent of _alpha_ that fills her lungs and seeps into her very pores. 

When he releases her neck, she stumbles, bent over, until the seller drags her upright with a hand round her upper arm and gives her a shake; a clear order to stand still. 

She lifts her eyes, panting a bit, gaze settling on the Master’s smirking face. 

_You bastard_ , she thinks furiously. 

“Ah, you like her now, eh?” The seller says from behind her, and she can hear him smiling. “See I told you, I told you! A rare creature indeed, yes? She can be yours, fine sir, yours for a price. Isn’t she marvelous?”

Another shrug of his shoulders, and the Master lets his gaze slide lazily over her again, just like he is _inspecting_ her; appraising a piece of meat at the butchers market. He reaches for her again, and a low, quiet growl falls from her lips. It gains her a smack upside her head, and she is certain she sees a flicker of something - was that rage? - In the Master’s face… before he grasps her jaw, pulling her mouth open as she’d seen the other potential buyers do in order to appraise her teeth. She gives him an intimate preview of them; she bites him, hard. 

He flinches, snapping his hand back with a yelp and shaking out his bleeding finger. The seller gives a cry of alarm and lurches forward with his whip raised. She squeezes her eyes shut, knowing what’s coming and refusing to flinch in front of him - but surprisingly she doesn’t feel the lash of the whip on her back, and opens her eyes again to see the seller’s wrist caught in the Master’s iron grip.

“Should I decide to buy her, I wouldn’t be amused if there are blemishes on that pretty pale skin.” He casts his gaze over her, leering a little. The Doctor sets her jaw and looks away. He turns his attention back to the seller. “It would drive her price down considerably, of course.” He releases his wrist, and steps back, motioning to the Doctor with a cruel smile and sweep of his hand. “In fact, why don’t you go ahead?” 

Looking between the Master and the Doctor, the seller hesitates, clearly torn for a moment, before he lowers his whip, and instead spits on the ground in front of her feet in disgust. The Doctor wrinkles her nose. 

“But _you_ ,” the Master says, and suddenly seizes her by the hair and yanks her head towards him.

“Is that any way to treat the man who’s here to save you?” He hisses lowly into her ear so the seller cannot hear him.

“Save me?” She snarls back quietly, “you’re trying to humiliate me!”

“Oh no, you’ve already done that yourself love. I didn’t put you here, after all.”

“I was trying to save -“

He releases her so suddenly she staggers back, and snaps his fingers at the seller.

“Cover her up,” he demands. “I intend to buy her and I don’t like other people looking at my things.”

“Sir,” the seller splutters, “you do not own her yet, and you can’t possibly expect me not to display my goods to other customers before the auc -“

The Master grabs him by the scruff, and the Doctor doesn’t know what he says or does, but when he releases the pathetic little man, he fumbles so fast to throw a heavy robe around her he nearly stumbles. The Doctor catches the Master’s eyes as he moves away and grudgingly mouths _‘thank you.’_

\--

The Doctor is almost glad when it’s her turn to step up onto the auction platform. Thanks to the Master, she had been _inspected_ by more potential buyers than she ever would have liked. She was careful not to let any more of her scent out, but his little performance had left her reeking of it anyhow, and suddenly she found herself the most popular attraction at the sale. 

She was thankful at least, for the thick robe around her now. Many had demanded it be removed so they could get a proper look at her, but whatever the Master had said or done to the seller had left him stubborn in his resolve to keep her fully covered. That didn’t mean she wasn’t still _felt_ and _touched_ and poked and prodded until she was practically vibrating with fury, snarling at anyone who dared approach. It put some off, wrinkling their noses and walking away from her, but seemed to pique the interest of others _more_ . She even had one particularly slimy looking humanoid alpha claim he was going to ‘ _enjoy breaking this one in’._ Her stomach had rolled with nausea at that. 

The crowd in front of the auction stand is packed, and the Doctor glances over them as the auctioneer rattles off information about her like she is a prized cow. 

“A mere thirty years old! Still in her prime, able to bear strong litters of pups indeed I imagine…”

She rolls her eyes. _Just a tad off there, mate,_ she thinks vaguely. 

She spots the Master, standing over towards the left hand side, dark eyes watching her with a glint of amusement and she knows he is _enjoying this_ far too much. She hates him. She’s rather glad he’s here, she grudgingly admits to herself, because who knew what would become of her otherwise… but she still hates him. 

The bidding goes on for a while, and the Doctor tunes it out. She’s never been much good at keeping up with currencies so the numbers the auctioneer babbles mean little to her, but they sound large. The Master bids with a tiny nod of his head each time, like he is bored of the whole shebacle. There are two main others who seem intent on buying her, but where they appear to falter and consider, the Master is relentless, nodding immediately each time another bid is placed until finally, first one then the other shakes his head, and the hammer is dropped as he is announced the winner. The Doctor is hauled off the stage amongst applause, taken to the back where the official transaction is to be made. 

When he appears, she fully expects him to just grab her hand and make a run for it. Or pull out a weapon and inform them he was just taking her - she wouldn’t even have been surprised if he simply shrunk everyone there with his TCE so they could walk out together. (She probably wouldn’t even be mad about it, although it goes against all her morals. She’d seen enough today that it would be difficult to do so.)

Instead, he shocks her when he pulls out a small silver card and taps it against the merchant’s device. 

“Excellent, excellent,” the greasy little man beams, fumbling with a box of keys. “Let’s just see… aha! Here you are,” he says, handing it over. “And I just need your thumb print here, and the transfer will be complete. The chip will be registered to your name - you should get a confirmation message in two to five days.”

“Perfect,” the Master smiles charmingly at him. 

“A pleasure doing business with you today sir! Please return next month, we are certain to have much more wonderful stock just like this one.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he drawls. A hand in the middle of the Doctor’s back shoves her forward, and the chain around her wrists is handed over to the Master.

“Enjoy your purchase!” The merchant smarms at him, and the Master smirks back. 

“Oh, I intend to,” he says, before turning and leading the Doctor away.

“How did you afford that?” She hisses as soon as they are out of earshot.

“I had some funds tucked away,” he says vaguely, and she narrows her eyes at him as he walks them briskly through the marketplace. He’s let go of the chain on her wrists, at least - thank goodness he didn’t intent to lead her around like a dog. Some people glance at her as they move past, but the Master glares at them, and all of them avert their gazes hurriedly. 

“And what - had a sudden spur of honesty?”

“No,” The Master replies breezily. “I just wanted to own you fair and square.”

She stutters, misses her footing and trips. When she’s caught herself and jogged to catch up, there’s a smile on his face.

“You don’t _own me_ ,” she hisses, “you can’t own a person!”

He dangles the key with the tag she knows matches up to the microchip number they’d implanted in the back of her neck. “This little trinket says otherwise,” he gloats, giving her a smug smile. She scoffs.

“You can’t be serious.”

He doesn’t reply, but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he keeps walking and she licks her lips nervously. 

“You said you’d come to save me!”

“No, I said I was _going_ to save you. I actually came for a few other bits and pieces - spotting you standing up there was entirely a coincidence. And I think preventing any of those slimy alphas from purchasing you today counts perfectly well as saving you already, don’t you?”

“I -”

“Come on,” he says, “do try to keep up, I haven’t got all day.”

She jogs to catch up again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Ah, now you’re getting it!” He throws her a smirk.

“I’m not,” she frowns. “I could just walk away from you - there’s nothing stopping me.”

“Except for those,” he nods at the manacles still around her wrists, patting his pocket to remind her who held the key. “And the chip in your neck. That’s gonna go off at every checkpoint in this city - and there’s a lot of them. All I’d need to do is log an alert onto your chip number and you’d be returned to me in no time,” he says cheerfully, and she snarls under her breath. “May as well face facts,” he sings.

“And what _facts_ are those?”

He whirls suddenly to face her in the busy marketplace, making her nearly bump into him as she’s forced to an abrupt stop, and he smirks as she braces her hands on his chest to steady herself. She catches his gaze flicker to her neck, and is sharply reminded of how he’d dug his fingers into her gland earlier, squeezing her scent from her and forcing all her omega instincts to the surface. His scent is strong - he’s making no effort to hide it, in fact, she suspects he’s secreting copious amounts of it deliberately. Stepping back out of his space, forcing herself to breathe through her mouth so as not to inhale it, she blows a strand of hair out of her face irritably. The Master’s smirk breaks into a gloating grin that turns her insides cold and hot at the same time.

“You’re _my_ omega now.”

—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some ideas for this, but I’m undecided what route to go down yet. Mostly how dark to make this… the whole concept of omegaverse kind of hovers in dubious consent territory anyway, but I’d like to know what people would wanna read (if anything lol) so please let me know if you have any ideas/ whether you mind dark or would prefer something a bit less so.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS I swear I meant to update this sooner, where has this week gone...
> 
> Thanks so much for the amazing response to the first chapter and for sharing your thoughts on the direction you wanted this story to go on. We won't be going full dark non-con but as with all omegaverse and the power imbalance here there will be very dubious consent in this story and the Master is his ever lovely manipulative self so just beware of that reading on. I haven't written the rest of it yet so I can't exactly say what it's gonna contain but keep an eye on the tags I'll update with each chapter so you'll see if there's stuff you'd rather avoid.

He doesn’t take her to his Tardis. And so the whole plan she’d hastily formulated in her head on the way here becomes null and void when he lets them into a large suite in an apartment complex on the outskirts of the city, and closes the door behind them. 

The Doctor stares at him as he shrugs out of his coat, seemingly making himself at home. “Where’s your Tardis?”

He snorts. “Like I’m going to tell you that.”

“But I thought… we’re not leaving?”

“This planet? Nope, not just yet. I told you - came by to pick up some bits and… sort a couple of things.”

The Doctor narrows her eyes at him. “What are you up to?”

“None of your concern love. And no - I’ve no intention of taking you along with me, I know full well how you like sticking your nose into my business.”

She scroffs. “If you’re referring to the countless times I prevented you from doing something _awful_ , then yes - I do.”

He ignores that, helping himself to a drink from the mini bar in the corner. The Doctor watches him quietly for a moment, trying to figure out what he was playing at here. 

“I must say, you hid it well.” He speaks up, turning to face her with a drink in hand. 

“What?”

“You being an omega. I thought you were another boring beta like the last three.”

“Really?” She says boredly, “I could smell your alpha stink from across the room.”

He grins. “Not when I didn’t want you to,” he jabs, reminding her cruelly of O. 

She frowns at him, before turning away from his piercing gaze in favour of nosing around the space. It’s… plain. Openplan, spacious, bed at one end, living space in the middle, kitchen at the other. Smart, but minimal, with white marble floors and grey brick walls and large windows overlooking the city. She doesn’t like it. 

“How long are you planning on keeping me here then?” She says as she pokes around the sparse kitchen. 

“Haven’t decided yet,” he replies. “All depends on how my… business in the city goes really.”

She turns to throw him an unimpressed glance, eyebrow raised. “- Don’t open that, it’ll spoil,” he tells her as she sniffs at a packet of some sort of food she pulls out the fridge. She peels back the top while looking him in the eye, just for the sake of it. The Master scowls at her and throws back the rest of his drink. 

“Well. I’m going out. Try not to pull the place apart while I’m gone, hm? The rent is no small sum.”

She scoffs. “Like I’d believe you’re paying _rent_.”

“Well. The rent is killing the landlord - which I must get round to, thanks ever-so for the reminder.”

 _“You_ -”

“And don’t try to leave, you won’t get very far.”

“Wait!” The Doctor says quickly before he gets to the door. She waits until he turns to face her, looking at her expectantly, and she shuffles on her feet, her cheeks warm. She _hates_ to have to ask the Master for anything… but if he really is planning on holding her prisoner here for who knew how long - until he gets bored at least, or she finds a way out -she doesn’t really have a choice. 

“I need suppressants.”

The Master quirks an eyebrow, and she frowns. “I haven’t taken any in three days - my heat’s gonna break if you don’t get me some.”

“What a pity _that_ would be.”

The Doctor’s insides go cold. “...You’re joking.”

That eyebrow is still raised, and there’s a small smirk on his lips now to go with it. “Am I?”

“I - I can’t go into heat,” she insists, “You know what it’s like - what you’ll have to deal with. I haven’t even had one in this body yet and -”

“ _First_ heat?” He’s outright _grinning_ now, and a sense of panic is starting to rise inside her. “Well now this should be fun.”

“ _Master_ ,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m not messing around. If you’re keeping me here you need to get me suppressants. _Today_.”

“Hmmm…” He taps a finger to his lips like he’s pondering. “No I don’t think I will,” he finally says, and her jaw drops open. 

“You’re a bastard,” she utters. 

He _winks_ at her - actually winks. And then he’s gone.

\--

She rips the apartment apart - just because he warned her not to - and out of frustration more than anything, a desperate urge to _do_ something with the restless energy building inside, making her feel like she had pins and needles on the inside of her skin. 

Of course she tries to leave - but she can’t even get the door open, the lock somehow linked into the chip in the back of her neck, refusing her access with a loud red buzzing noise every time she tries. She tries breaking into the systems - but it’s all locked down behind cast iron metal and she doesn’t have her sonic. 

So instead she pulls everything out of each and every cupboard and drawer and wardrobe - pulls apart the curtains, drags all the sheets off the bed, rips open the pillows… she had thought the Master had to have been keeping _something_ here she could use to escape or to rig up some sort of tool to help her break the lock but her search proves futile. 

With every hour that passes she grows increasingly frustrated, and her body grows increasingly warmer. Her heat is coming, a dull throb already started between her legs, and a light layer of sweat on her skin. It would be maybe a day until it properly broke and she would become nothing but a whimpering mess wanting - _needing_ \- only one thing. Already, when she thinks about the Master a twinge of excitement shoots through her, and she grows damp. She _hated_ it. The thought of needing him like that - of _begging_ him like she knew she would do makes her feel sick and angry and so frustrated she wants to cry. The damn hormones were wreaking havoc on her body already and she knows she had to get out of here before she looses all control. 

She half considers cutting the microchip out of her own neck… it wasn’t too deep in her skin, from the feel of it… but she’s not silly. She knows how these things work. Any attempt to remove the chip without it being deactivated first would send an electric shock straight down her spinal chord, or sometimes even release a poison into the bloodstream… she needed to deactivate it first. Which she couldn’t do. 

She is halfway through yanking all the wiring out of the back of the oven in hopes she’d find something useful, when the door of the apartment opens and closes again behind the Master with a heavy click. 

“You’ve had fun then, I see,” he comments dryly, and doesn’t sound surprised at the state of the place. 

She ignores him. 

“Come and clean yourself up, we’re going out.”

Her head snaps up out of the oven at that. “Out? Where?” She demands, getting to her feet and brushing herself off. The Master pulls something out of a bag as she wanders over. 

“I bought you something to wear.” He tosses a thin piece of fabric onto the bed, and she scoffs. 

“I am _not_ wearing that.”

“Oh beg pardon - would you rather go out in that?”

The Doctor’s cheeks flush with heat and she folds her arms quickly across her chest. In her frustration she had all but forgotten that she was still only clothed in the sheer dress she had been put in for the auction. It covered all of her, but the material was completely translucent, and she may as well be naked. The Master grins. “I didn’t think so. Get changed.”

She eyes the dress he’d laid out. It was a nice shade of blue, she would grudgingly admit, there just… wasn’t a lot of it. It looked like it would come down to the floor, but there was a split up to the top of the thigh, and the V at the front promised to dip dangerously low. 

She sets her jaw. “I need some underwear, at least,” she snaps. 

The Master tosses another bag onto the bed, and then disappears off into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, the sound of the shower running filling the apartment a moment later. The Doctor sighs. If she’d had any of her usual senses together, she would have taken the opportunity of a shower herself while he was out, earlier. Instead she’d been too busy trying to find a way out of here, and panicking over her impending heat. Well. It was too late now. 

She’s dressed by the time he walks out, and hastily turns away from his bare chest, cheeks flushing as warmth fills her belly. _Not now, body!_ She snaps irritably at herself as she hears an amused chuckle from behind her. 

“Where are we going?” She says again. 

“A party.”

She turns to face him with an eyebrow raised as he buttons a dark navy shirt. “Seriously?”

“Don’t worry it’s all business. But it will do my credibility some good to have an omega on my arm. It’ll help me… fit in.”

“To have a _slave_ , you mean? Say it how it is.”

“Alright - a slave, then,” he says with a smirk. 

“You disgust me.”

“Doesn’t smell like it, love,” he quips, and she flushes red with both anger and embarrassment. 

“You -”

“Actually…” He cuts her off, moving closer as he sniffs the air. The Doctor refuses to back up, standing straight as he approaches. “Your scent is fairly strong already.”

“What do you expect - I told you, I need suppressants,” she practically growls. 

Ignoring her words, he looks at her, considering. “I should bite you.”

“You will not!” She half snorts. 

“Oh I’m sorry - would you rather be jumped on by every alpha in attendance tonight?”

“No, I’d _rather_ not go at all! In fact - I’d rather you let me go so I can get out of this horrendous city and away from you!”

“Suit yourself,” he spins away from her, scooping his waistcoat off a chair and throwing it on. “Don’t come crying to me when you find yourself the star attraction of the party. There’s going to be a _lot_ of alphas there… who knows, perhaps they’ll be delighted I’ve brought an omega nearly in heat. Maybe they’ll even let you pick who gets to go first.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she relents, cutting off his awful words, her stomach flipping at the prospect even as dread fills her. They both know he’s right; to walk into a room full of alphas this close to her heat unmarked would be _stupidity_ . As much as she hates the idea, a visible claiming bite from him would protect her. “You can bite me. But don’t break the skin,” she warns, both of them knowing that his saliva getting into her bloodstream this close to a heat would take like a fire to haystack, bonding them instantly. The Doctor can only _hope_ that’s not what he intends to do, knowing how vulnerable she was making herself by offering him her neck. 

“Don’t worry love,” he says, and he’s smirking as he approaches, still buttoning his waistcoat, “You’ll beg me before I do _that_.”

She gives another snort; false bravado as he comes to a stop in front of her. “Then you’ll never do it.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a dark smirk, voice low and sinful and she _hates_ the way it sends shives through her whole body. The Doctor swallows, every muscle in her body tense as she tries to fight her instincts and tells herself she will _not_ enjoy this. Heat radiates from his body where he stands in front of her, and she sucks in a sharp breath as he reaches up and sweeps her hair aside, his other hand coming up to cup her jaw, tilting her head to bare her gland to him. 

It throbs. Her body tingles all over, and there’s a twinge in her gland - like a burning itch _aching_ to be scratched as the Master’s hot breath ghosts over her. 

“Keep still for me now,” he demands lowly, and then his mouth closes over her gland, and his teeth sink in. 

Try as she might to suppress it, a whimper leaves her lips, and her fingers curl into his waistcoat, eyelashes fluttering as he laves at her mating gland with his tongue, sucking where his mouth is latched onto her. 

The wall hits her back when they stagger into it, and the Doctor lets it take her weight, legs suddenly weak and head spinning as pulses of desire go coursing through her and slick soaks her underwear, making her gasp. He presses closer, the hard length of his body pressing hers into the wall and she can _feel him_ , hardening against her stomach, a bolt of heat shooting straight to her core that makes her legs nearly give way, a desperate moan teaing its way from her throat -

“Stop!” She gasps out, shoving at him. His mouth falls from her neck and he stumbles back, both of them staring at each other, panting. The Doctor’s eyes are wide and her hearts are pounding. She lifts a hand to try to smooth her hair where his hand had been buried in it, and it trembles. 

“Well,” the Master says, but at least looks similarly ruffled to her. “You can’t try and pretend you didn't enjoy that.” His eyes flicker down; a crude signal that he can smell exactly how much slick just dripped out of her in response to his attentions. Hackles raising, the Doctor scowls. 

“An alpha sucking on my mating gland when I’m about to go into heat? Shocker,” she snipes bitterly. 

The Master laughs as she stomps off to the bathroom to change her underwear. 

— 

They take a hovercar to their destination, and the Master’s hand is tight around her arm when they arrive and he leads her up the stairs of the grand building. Probably worried she would try and make a run for it. 

The night air is cool on her overheated skin at least, and she takes deep breathes, trying to centre herself and calm the racing of her twin hearts. His little display in his apartment was like fuel to the fire of her impending heat, and the Doctor isn’t certain she even has until tomorrow until it fully breaks now. She’s lightheaded, and it feels like there’s a fire between her legs, slick wetness constantly present there, reminding her what’s coming with every step she took while adrenaline pumps round her body in increasing amounts. Her sense of smell is heightened, and unfortunately means that as she drags in deep lungfuls of air, she also inhales a strong dose of _him_ , which does nothing to help her state. He smells incredible. Although she reminds herself that _any_ alpha would smell incredible to her right now. 

She has to lift the stupid skirts of the ridiculous dress he’d put her in to climb the steps, and the elaborate golden cuff he’d placed round her wrist glints in the light of the building. The gift wasn’t a sentiment; it’s the identification of a slave in this decrepit society - a cuff round the right forearm, huge like a gauntlet, with the swirling symbol that stated her position in society. He’d picked a fancy one to show off his wealth tonight, she suspects - not out of any kind of fondness of her. Another wave of his scent hits her as they wait in line to be admitted entrance, and she tries to breathe more shallowly through her mouth instead. Her freshly marked mating gland tingles in the cool air where the Master had pinned her hair back on one side to make certain it was visible. 

He tugs her arm to move her up another step, and she stumbles. 

The Master leans in. “Do try to pull yourself together, you look a wreck.”

“Well maybe that’s because you refused to give me suppressants so now I’m on the verge of going into heat!” She snaps back, a snarl in her voice. 

“Oof - I see the hormones have kicked in. No biting the fingers off any of the other guests at least, please. I’m trying to keep a low profile here tonight.”

“Then perhaps you should have thought of that before you -”

“Good evening!” He greets the doorman loudly, cutting her off. “I’m on the guestlist - the Master. That’s a capital M.”

“Ahh… yes sir!” The man replies, tapping on his screen. He picks up a small device from beside it and reaches out, poking it quite rudely into the back of the Doctor’s neck. 

“Hey!” She snaps, slapping his hand away, affronted at being touched without permission. 

The doorman looks startled and angry, and the Master hastily grabs her by the arm, pulling her round into him and gripping her head by a handful of hair, effectively holding her still in place.

“Terribly sorry - my omega is near her heat, I believe,” he says to the man as he presses the cold device into her neck again. The Doctor is fuming, but doesn’t really have any choice other than to hold still as he scans her for her chip, the Master glaring into her eyes in warning. The device gives a beep, and the man moves away. 

“All fine,” he says. “You may go inside. Please enjoy your evening sir.”

The Master lets go of the Doctor’s arm once they’re inside, and she realises very quickly that’s because the whole building has those damnable built in scanners that would make it impossible for her to get out without triggering alarms now she’s been logged on the system. This place had been functioning this way for centuries, with half the society enslaved to the wealthy, and it _shows_. 

With no choice, the Doctor hovers by his side as he schmoozes various people and aliens and lifeforms. She’s trying to figure out what his ‘business’ here entails - but as time ticks on it becomes more and more difficult for her to simply remain _standing_ with the way she’s starting to feel. 

By the time a gong rings and everyone files through to a room with fancy tables laid out, she is sweating all over, her skin flushed and tingling and a dull ache has begun in her belly. 

Most of the guests seem to have their own slave, and some kneel by their chair on the floor, others stand behind, and some are permitted to sit at the table too. The Master, thankfully, pushes the Doctor into a chair next to his at the table, and thanks the blue-skinned man opposite them as he loudly compliments him on the ‘fine omega’ he has like she is a prized _pet_. 

He chatters to the others at the table. She can recognise that he has his full charm switched on and knows there is a _point_ to all this - something she could probably figure out if it wasn’t taking all of her damned energy not to just grind herself on the corner of the chair. The room feels stifling hot, the thin dress she has on clinging to her, sweat on her skin, and her hearts are beating fast. The unbearable cramps that she knew would have her _begging_ for an alpha to assuage her symptoms hadn’t quite begun, but there was still pain in the bottom of her abdomen, like an empty ache that made her want to press her thighs together and groan.

An elbow in the side makes her jump, and she snaps her head up from where she’d buried it in her hands, elbows on the table to see the Master glaring at her as he sips from his drink. 

“People are staring,” he mutters lowly. 

“Isn’t that what you want?” She snaps back. 

His face flickers with annoyance, and his eyes dart around the room. He reaches over and she flinches a bit, watching him warily as he pulls back the hair she’d mussed loose with her hands, tucking it into the clip on the back - ensuring the mark he’d left on her neck is visible, no doubt. 

She _hates him_. 

His fingertips brush her collarbone on the way down and her whole body gives a _jolt_ as desire courses through her so strong a whimper leaves her lips. 

_Get a grip, Doctor!_ She tells herself furiously as she sees the Master hide a smirk in his drink. His lips purse as he takes a sip of the amber liquid, and his throat bobs as he swallows it down, his adams apple moving. Her eyes follow the line of his neck down where it disappears into the collar of his purple coat. He has the top couple of buttons undone on his navy shirt, and she can just see a couple of hairs peeking out above them. Abruptly, she _throbs_ between her legs, slick leaking out from her, as visions fill her head - him walking bare-chested out of the shower earlier - him, even _more_ bare, naked and beautiful, leaning over her, his dark skin against her pale, covering her aching body with his own as she spreads her legs... - and suddenly she _has_ to get away from him before she crawls into his lap and begs him to knot her at this damn dinner table. 

Her chair scrapes against the floor as she shoves back from the table, stumbling to her feet on wobbling legs. 

“Bathroom,” she manages to croak, not waiting for his permission before she turns and races off. He knew she wouldn’t be able to get out of the building, and it’s a blessed relief when he doesn’t follow her.

She locks the stall door with shaking hands, leaning back against it and taking deep gulps of air that finally weren’t saturated with _alpha_ . The Doctor knew this would happen when he refused to get her suppressants… but she had expected to have a little longer to come up with - _some_ sort of plan before the heat took full hold of her. She now knows that’s becoming less and less likely - and there was _no way_ she was going to give into him. She doesn’t know if he _did_ actually plan on taking and knotting her while she was in heat, but with the whole song and dance about ‘ _owning’_ her it certainly seemed likely. 

She couldn’t let that happen. She and the Master may have been… _like that_ , once, but… that was lifetimes ago. This version of him was cruel and twisted and as unhinged and untrustworthy as they came and she would _not_ give herself over to him like that. 

The Doctor is just feeling like she can breathe again without his potent scent invading her every breath, when the door to the washroom opens, and suddenly the air is thick and scented with pheremones so strong she has to clutch at the wall of the stall to keep from stumbling. 

It isn’t him. She would recognise his scent anywhere - but this one smells just as sweet - stronger, even, like… _yes_. Whoever this alpha is, they were close to rut. 

“Fuck,” comes a voice - female, a little hoarse. “I didn’t know there were omegas here tonight…”

The Doctor swallows hard, her head spinning and hearts racing, excitement coiling in her belly. An idea has already started to spawn in her ridiculously over-sexed and desperate mind, and it’s reckless, and not something she would ever normally consider - to do this kind of thing with a stranger but…

These were extenuating circumstances. 

_Desperate_ circumstances. 

“Hello?” Comes the voice again, and it’s softer now, breathy, cooing to her gently from just the other side of the stall, like she is pressed against it. “Are you in here, omega?”

… And maybe - if she just… had an alpha take the edge off, she could get through this night with a clearer head and figure out how to get away from _him_ before she did something she would really regret. 

Taking a deep, shaking breath, the Doctor hastily yanks the clip out of her hair, pulling it all down around her neck to carefully cover the Master’s mark, and then she reaches out, and unlocks the stall door. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another alpha, getting to knot the Doctor for a first time instead of the master!?
> 
> ...Or will she? :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Please check tags, this... went in quite a direction 👀

Her right arm tucked firmly behind her back to hide her slave cuff, the Doctor swings open the stall door, and comes face to face with the alpha on the other side of it. Her jaw slackens, and all her omega senses  _ purr  _ with delight as the woman locks eyes with hers.

She was beautiful. About a head taller than the Doctor, her skin was a purplish-white, so light it was almost translucent, and her eyes a deep indigo, with long lashes and a pointed nose, and a smattering of blue freckles on her cheeks. In lieu of hair, she had long tendrils that danced around her face like medusa herself, and while she had two arms and legs like the Doctor, from behind her came an array of tentacles the same colour as her skin, slithering through the air, reaching gracefully forward towards her as the alpha tilts her head with wonder on her face.

“Ohh, a klythori…” the Doctor breathes. There was something about that particular species that niggles at the back of the Doctor’s mind, but the alpha smiles at her, a warm, soft smile that makes the Doctor’s hearts flutter and the heat between her legs flare and she shoves the thought aside for now. 

“Yes. And you, little omega…” she sniffs, gills on the side of her neck contracting, and her nose scrunches up. “Are you human? I didn’t think they had designations…”

“I’m…” she tries to come up with a plausible answer, and typically she would have a million on the tip of her tongue, but her ears are rushing, and heat is curling in her belly and pooling between her legs, slick dripping from her as she inhales the alpha’s potent scent. Her knees weaken, and she staggers, clutching at the frame of the stall door. 

“Oh you poor thing - you’re nearly in heat!” The alpha reaches for her, taking the Doctor by the arm and moving her across the small bathroom to lean her against the sink counter the other side. “What on earth are you doing out in public in a state like this?”

“Yeah… miscalculated - a bit,” the Doctor manages to bite out. “It’s caught me a bit sudden.”

“Oh darling,” the woman purrs, and the Doctor’s whole body sings with delight, her toes curling in her shoes and a fresh wave of yearning shooting through her.

She squeezes her eyes shut, breathing shallowly, and decides to state it plainly. “Look,” she says, and opens her eyes again to stare at the alpha, waiting for a name. 

“Ly’aa,” she answers, her voice soothing and even.

“Ly’aa,” the Doctor repeats, liking the feel of her name on her tongue. “I’m the Doctor, and… I wouldn’t normally do this sort of thing but to be honest I’m in a bit of a tight spot right now and, um, I mean if you wanted to - of course, I just… I really need…” she trails off, trying to find the words. Her cheeks are hot and the pounding in her head is making it difficult to think clearly. 

Ly’aa smiles. “You want me to ease your symptoms, little one?”

More slick drips out of her, and the Doctor bites her lip, and nods her head. 

“I can do that,” Ly’aa purrs, and lifts a hand to the Doctor’s face. Long fingers with long nails, pointed at the end delicately brush a strand of the Doctor’s hair back from her face, then her index finger strokes down over her cheek, the sharp point of her nail lightly tickling her skin. She leans forward and inhales by the Doctor’s neck - the other side to the Master’s mark when she hastily turns her head that way - and the Doctor’s own senses are surrounded in the alpha woman’s scent, her hearts racing in excitement in response. 

She is gentle as she touches her, and her scent is giving off calming waves, soothing the ache in the Doctor’s belly a little. It’s nice - she can smell that Ly’aa is clearly very close to her rut, and often an alpha in such a state could be aggressive and forceful, and have a hard time keeping control around an omega as near to heat as the Doctor was. 

Her slim hands slide down her body, and grip the Doctor by the hips, lifting her suddenly and sitting her on the counter so they are level. A tentacle snakes out, sliding up round the Doctor’s waist and she shivers, clutching at the silver material of the alpha’s top, inhaling deeply through her nose as she drinks in her scent. A memory of earlier that night comes to her - the Master’s shirt clenched in her hands as he sucked at her gland - and a desperate moan slips from her lips. 

“My, what a state you’re in… let me make it better, omega,” Ly’aa coos as the Doctor nods frantically. 

Tentacles curl round her thighs, warm and soft and supple as they slide under her knees, pulling her legs apart so Ly’aa can step between them. She leans in, and the Doctor’s right hand curls into the back of her own dress where her cuff is hidden behind her out of sight, gripping tight to resist the temptation of clutching desperately at the alpha woman with both hands and giving away what she was. 

The stupid flimsy dress the Master had put her in is pushed easily up round her hips out of the way, and Ly’aa’s delicate hands tug the front of it apart, baring the Doctor’s breasts as yet more tentacles snake up over her stomach, touching and sliding over her everywhere, stimulating so many nerve endings at one the Doctor feels dizzy. 

It is good that this alpha is so different to hers -  _ the Master _ , she hastily corrects herself, her whole face flushing at the possessive pronoun that had slipped through her mind, even though nobody but she knows it. He was  _ not _ her alpha - that was just her stupid omega hindbrain; a result of his mouth on her mating gland earlier that night.  _ That was all.  _

But yes - she is glad Ly’aa’s touch cannot be mistaken for his, the smooth slide of the many tentacles over her skin, her delicate hands kneading the Doctor’s small breasts, soft lips pressed to her collarbone… it leaves little room for thoughts of a low growl in her ear and teeth sinking possessively into her neck as a hard body pressed her own to the wall. 

Tentacles replace hands on her breasts, curling around them, and there are little suction pads on the end that latch onto her nipples and  _ squeeze,  _ the slightly painful sensation sending a fresh wave of slick rushing from her as she gasps, body arching. 

“So needy,” Ly’aa whispers to her, long slim fingers dancing down over her crotch, rubbing her slit through the soaked material of her underwear. “You want me inside you, omega?”

She nods hastily. “Yes - please -” Half drunk on pheromones, she fumbles with the shiny silver slacks the alpha wears, yanking them open. “Do you have…?”

It was probably a rude question - but the Doctor is too desperate in that moment to consider, and Ly’aa doesn’t seem offended, chuckling softly as she brushes the Doctor’s fumbling hands aside and unbuttons herself, reaching into her trousers. 

The Doctor’s eyes widen as she draws out… her cock? It looked like another tentacle - but different to the others, shorter and thicker, wide at the base with a pointed end, and little suctions pads all the way along it that seemed to be secreting a translucent lubricating fluid. It wriggled just like the others, one thick, flexible muscle that makes the Doctor’s cunt contract, clenching around nothing as it tickles her inner thigh, leaving a slick trail on her skin. 

Whining somewhere in the back of her throat, the Doctor shuffles forward, tilting her hips up, all her logical senses gone, pushed to the back of her brain somewhere and buried in a fog of lust.

With tentacles still kneading her breasts, the little suction pads were  _ pulsing _ where they were latched onto her nipples, driving her arousal up to unbearable heights. Another slides up her body, curling around her neck, and squeezing just briefly, enough to make her gasp and shudder, before it slithers up her throat and over her jaw and the pointed end presses to her lips.

She parts them, allowing the tendril to slip inside her mouth, sucking on it automatically as Ly’aa’s indigo eyes burn into her own, her purple lips parted and long lashes fluttering in enjoyment.

The tendrils wrapped round under her knees squeeze tight, and give her a sudden  _ yank _ , hauling her lower body closer to Ly’aa’s - and the cock-tentacle brushing her inner thigh finally passes over her core, sliding over her drenched underwear as she moans around the one in her mouth, cunt twitching.

Perhaps if she hadn’t been so utterly gone into her heat and drunk on pheromones and sensations and lust, she would have noticed the sudden glint in Ly’aa’s eyes. Perhaps she would have felt the light brush of razor sharp teeth on her shoulder when she leant in, or noticed the way the tentacles wrapped around her thighs tightened slowly like a vice, and another slithered up her body to curl around her neck. Perhaps she would have felt the way the one probing at her crotch had started to swell, as the pointed end of it snaked into her underwear, peeling the sodden material aside - perhaps she would have heard the furious pounding footsteps the other side of the bathroom door the second before it burst open -

Ly’aa is ripped away from the Doctor so suddenly she gasps with the force of it, choking and coughing as the tendril is hauled from her mouth, her nipples twinging at the suction pads being ripped away, and its all so fast that in her dazed state, it takes the Doctor a moment to process what’s actually happening. 

The Master is in the bathroom. He’s across the room, his whole form emanating fury as he pins Ly’aa to one of the stall walls. Only - it doesn’t look like the sweet gentle alpha who had been all over the Doctor just seconds before - her eyes are black and she is hissing and shrieking, her voice an echoing screech that makes the Doctor want to clutch at her head. Her tentacles are flailing wildly and furiously and her mouth - those pretty purple lips were now stretched wide and pulled back over sharp, gleaming teeth lashing for the Master as he pins her by the neck. 

Still, the Doctor’s body is aching and illogical and she is  _ angry  _ that the alpha had been ripped from her just before she could give her what she needed. 

“Master!” She cries, leaping off the counter and flying across the room to grab his coat, trying to haul him off the shrieking woman. “ _ Stop!” _

He flings an arm back to shove the Doctor away, and Ly’aa uses the opportunity of his distraction to shove a tentacle in his face, going for his eyes and wrenching away from him the second he staggers back with a yell. 

The Doctor barely blinks before she finds herself flat on her back on the hard floor with the wind knocked out of her, and tentacles all over her - hands grabbing and gripping, tendrils yanking her legs apart and snaking beneath her clothes - teeth in her neck - sharp teeth - right over the Master’s mark - and that is the sensation that snaps her out of her dazed, lust-addled state and makes her realise that something was very  _ wrong. _

She tries to gasp in air, but there’s a tentacle shoving between her lips again - and then it’s gone - blessedly - cool air hitting her skin as the weight lifts from over her, and when she blinks rapidly enough times to take in her surroundings, she finds that her and the Master are suddenly the only ones in the bathroom.

She gasps, dragging in a lungful of air, her body aching and shivering and confused. She can still feel the ghost of tentacles sliding all over her, and where she’d reveled in the sensations just minutes ago, the forceful way they’d prodded and probed at her and the blackness of Ly’aa’s eyes as she’d pinned her to the floor makes her shiver now. Her cunt aches, her throat hurts, and her nipples are dark and swollen as she lays on the cold bathroom floor, trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

The Master stoops down next to her, scooping something off the floor before throwing it at her. It hits her in the chest and she hauls herself up, grabbing it off the floor.

It was Ly’aa.  _ Was.  _

“That was a klythori!” He growls, sounding angry at her as he shoves a hand through his mussed hair. His dark eyes are wild and livid, and the Doctor states between him and the miniaturised figure clutched in her fist.

“You killed her!” She accuses when she can find her voice.

“She was going to kill you!”

She stares at him. “What?”

“Rassilon Doctor, has your heat addled your damn brain!?”

He seizes her by the elbow and hauls her up off the floor, and she opens her mouth to argue with him when all of a sudden the bathroom door bursts open again, and five very angry looking security guards bustle in.

It’s all a bit of a blur after that. 

Unsurprisingly, the host doesn’t take too well to the news that one of the guests has been murdered by another, and the Master is loudly berated for not only doing so, but bringing an omega in heat -  _ her  _ \- to such a busy event. The Doctor would have interjected - but cramps had started to rip through her abdomen, her body livid at having being wound up so close to being sated and having it all ripped away, it was all she could do to remain upright.

There’s some screaming - a lot actually, and definitely one or two explosions, and then somehow she’s being manhandled into a hovercar and the next thing she knows she and the Master are speeding through the city.

By the time they’ve got back to the apartment, she remembers.

“Klythori,” she mumbles, feeling much more subdued as she traipses past him inside. “They’re the ones who inject poison into their omega during mating, aren’t they?”

“Yep,” the Master answers shortly, and slams the door behind himself. 

He grabs her arm, spinning her round to face him and gripping her jaw. 

“Hey -!” 

His thumb swipes over the gland on her neck, and her breath catches in her throat, her knees going weak at the sensation. Just as she’s about to clutch at him, he releases her and stalks away. 

“She didn’t break the skin.”

Panting a bit, the Doctor clutches at the back of the sofa for purchase as she watches him throw his jacket off irritably. 

“...Oh,” she says, and lifts a hand to touch the mark herself. “G-good.”

Shoving a hand through his hand, the Master whirls to face her again. His eyes are dark, and there is a deep frown on his face. 

“Did she…” He glances down, making a pointed motion with his eyes, and the Doctor feels her cheeks heat up. 

She is still slick, and the reminder of how close she had been to having the alpha inside of her makes her slicker still, even as she now knows what that would have entailed. 

“No,” she mumbles. “You came in just before.”   
She knows why he asks; klythori. She  _ knew  _ the name was familiar! She’d been to their planet once - centuries ago. The alphas carried a particular type of poison in their bloodstream that they injected with their teeth and/or sexual organs during mating which weakened the omega to a half-conscious state, and made them docile and reliant on their partner during gestation. Unsurprisingly, omegas of their own species had rebelled against the process, and often klythori alphas went looking for foreign species to birth their young. The downside was that the poison was deadly to most other lifeforms. 

A shiver goes through the Doctor’s body, and she steps around the sofa, throwing herself down onto it with a sigh. 

“You’re welcome.” The Master says haughtily from across the room. 

“It was your fault!” She accuses angrily. “You’re the one who refused to get me suppressants and dragged me out in public knowing I was near my heat!”

“And  _ you’re _ the one who went off on your own! If you’d stayed by my side like you were supposed to I could have protected you!”

“ _ Protected _ me!? Wha - I don’t need your  _ protection!” _

“Well clearly you do!” The Master snaps back, but his cheeks are flushed, and he spins away from her like he’s embarrassed. She expects the words had slipped out - she knows how it is. His alpha instincts are building in response to her heightened scent - the drive to protect and claim her for his own, that alpha possessiveness rising. Her inner omega is delighted at the notion, and she presses her thighs together, shifting on the sofa and biting her lip, angry at her stupid instincts. 

She feels tired suddenly. Drained - it had been… an  _ exhausting  _ few days under any circumstances, but now her heat is almost in full flare, and the only alpha available to help her is angry at her - and she  _ hates _ him anyway, she hastily reminds herself - and to top it off, the cramps in her abdomen are worsening by the minute. 

She curls her legs up on the sofa, wrapping her arms around them, and presses her forehead to her knees, exhaling shakily through a cramp. 

She jumps when she feels a hand on her arm. 

“What?”

“Up.”

Usually she would protest, but she is too weak to prevent herself from obeying his command, and gets to her feet, letting him tow her through the apartment. She’s surprised when he pushes her into the bathroom. 

“...Huh?” She says dumbly. 

“Wash,” he commands her, “You reek of that disgusting alpha.”   
The door slams behind him, leaving her alone in the spacious bathroom. 

The flimsy material of the dress hits the floor, and she steps into the shower, turning on the hot spray. She shivers beneath it, skin feverish and burning, body trembling despite how overheated she is, and scarcely registering what she’s doing, she grabs for the soap and starts scrubbing at her skin. 

_ Must wash away the other alpha’s scent, _ her brain tells her firmly, upset at the thought of the Master being displeased at her. How she  _ hates _ it. The cuff on her wrist is locked shut, and the chip in the back of her neck is an obvious bump beneath her thumbs when she scrubs shampoo into her hair and she  _ hates _ all of it. If only she hadn’t taken them all to that damn planet where Yaz had been captured in the first place. 

But she had, and she was here now. And as much as she  _ loathes it _ … she knows she’s not going to get through her heat without the Master’s help. Not when she was in such close proximity to him, and not when she was already feeling like she was losing her mind and it was just the beginning. 

She steps out of the shower dripping wet but clean, and reaches out to grab a clean towel from the cupboard at the side, when her hand pauses. There’s one hanging on a hook, a little scrunched up and still partly damp;  _ the Master’s.  _ The one he must have used to dry himself after his shower earlier, and before she can register what she’s doing, the Doctor has grabbed it down and is kneeling on the floor with it clutched to herself, two handfuls of it pressed to her face as she greedily inhales his potent scent, her head spinning in delight and fresh slick rushing from her, coating her thighs. 

That’s where he finds her a few minutes later, huddled on the floor by the shower, his towel clutched to her, her hips rocking as she grinds herself down onto the heel of her foot. She looks up through hazed vision, and takes in the sight of him standing there in the doorway, lips parted and eyes wide and dark. His lips are so plump this time around - temping. She wonders what they would feel like pressed to her own, and moans at the notion, rubbing her cheek against the towel, inhaling deeply. 

“Rassilon,” the Master curses a second later, and crosses the bathroom to haul her off the floor, snatching his towel from her hands and grabbing a fresh one off the shelf, shoving it at her. 

“Alpha,” she clutches at him, dizzy with want. Amazingly, he plucks her hands from his shirt, and gives her a shove. 

“Go get dry,” he tells her, his voice hoarse. Her legs carry her into the bedroom on his command, and she sits on the bed, mindlessly drying off her skin and rubbing at her wet hair. Her body is on fire, and each touch of the towel sends heat shooting through her - but without his scent pressed up so close to her, she can think a little clearer, at least. 

When he emerges from the bathroom, his waistcoat is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned, and the Doctor has to bite back a whimper. 

“Look,” she manages to voice. “Since you forced me into this heat, you… you’re just going to have to get me through it,” she says. It’s not what she wants to say - she wants to leap up and grab him, press her nose into his neck and her body against his and beg him to take her, beg for alpha  _ please _ to mate her and knot her and make her  _ his _ . But the Doctor is stronger than those damn instincts; she  _ has  _ to be. And so she sits with the towel tucked around her and back straight, hands gripping tight to the material to keep herself in place as she waits for his answer. 

He looks at her for a moment, head tilted like she is a curiosity, before he stalks towards her.    
“Is that what you’d like?” He says, and his voice is low, a purr that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, nipples hardening against the rough material of the towel. 

“I… -” She swallows as he approaches. “It’s what I need.”

“What you  _ need _ , hm?” He drawls. He’s standing in front of her now, her knees pressed to his thighs, and he leans down, bending her backwards, a hand either side of her on the bed. “You need me to knot you, omega?”

She almost begs.  _ Almost.  _ She doesn’t know how she manages it, but instead she bites out in a hoarse voice, “Unfortunately, yes.”

The Master’s face twitches with a flash of irritation, and then in one sudden move that takes her breath away, he shoves her back on the bed, and then he’s kneeling over her, his knees either side of her hips as she looks up at him, panting. His eyes are dark with a glint of wildness that should scare her - instead it makes slick rush from between her thighs - so much it drips down the crevice of her bum and pools beneath her, making her squirm, her hands reaching for him.

He shoves her away. And then, still kneeling up with his eyes locked onto hers, he unbuckles his belt, yanking it hastily through the loops, and before she can process his intentions, he has dragged both her slim wrists up above her head, and buckled them firmly to the headboard, the leather tight round her wrists. 

His hands slide back down over her body, untucking the towel as he goes, dragging it undone to fall open either side of her, baring her overheated body beneath his as his gaze sweeps over her. 

Hands going to the mattress either side of her, he leans down, his torso hot against her own, and his breath warm as it brushes her neck.

“Alpha,” she whispers needily, arching up towards him. She wants to grab him and haul him down to her but she can’t, and she wriggles, frustrated as she yanks at the belt round her wrists. 

Her body goes still when he leans in further and his hot mouth opens over the mark on her neck. His tongue laps at her, just lightly - and a deep, long moan falls from the Doctor’s lips as she tilts her head, offering him her neck. His body rocks against hers, his teeth scrape her skin, and she thinks for a moment he is going to bite her -  _ properly -  _ she thinks she’ll let him too - and then he speaks, low and rough into her ear. 

“You seriously think I’m going to give you what you want when you ruined everything tonight?”

Her stomach drops. 

“What -?”

He bites her - but not her neck - his head dipping and teeth sinking instead into her shoulder,  _ hard,  _ making her cry out as he grunts, thrusting against her, rubbing the hard bulge of his cock into her pelvis as her body gives a violent  _ shudder  _ of pleasure-pain - and then he pulls away abruptly.

The Doctor is left dazed and blinking as he kneels up again, looking down at her with a cruel glint in his eye - a cold anger that turns her insides to ice even as her heat wracks her body - and she can only stare as he undoes his trousers with shaking fumbling hands and draws out his cock.

He is huge and engorged and dark, the tip leaking with precum and the base already swollen with the promise of his knot… he throbs as he takes himself in hand and the Doctor whimpers desperately, squirming, squeezing her thighs together in an attempt to get some pressure on her aching cunt, writhing beneath him. His knees clamp harder either side of her hips, holding her down as he starts to stroke himself, pumping his hand over his cock purposefully, and panic goes through the Doctor as she realises what he intends to do.

“I - are you - you can’t mean to -!?”

“This what you want?” He taunts her, eyes blacker than black as he fucks himself. 

Despite herself, she nods frantically. 

“ _ Beg  _ me,” he smirks.

She hates him. She hates him  _ so much _ … but she can also barely think straight through the cramps ripping through her and the unbearable aching throb between her legs, and she lets out a growl of frustration, angry tears prickling in her eyes.

“Please,” she relents. “Alpha  _ please…” _

He gives a shudder, his mouth falling open as his eyes squeeze shut, and his hand moves quicker. He snaps his eyes open, and a cruel grin twists his lips upwards at the corner. 

“ _ No,” _ he snarls sadistically, and as the Doctor gasps, face contorting in disbelief, tears spilling over as her body shakes and burns, he comes, spilling out over his fist, and splashing thick and hot down onto her belly. 

Then he’s clambering off her, wiping himself clumsily on her towel before doing his trousers back up and half-stumbling over to the bathroom, leaving the Doctor tied down and desperate on the bed. 

“I’m going back out,” he announces brightly when he walks out a few minutes later, looking much more composed, smoothing back his hair. 

“You can’t be serious,” the Doctor says - she means to spit the words out angrily, but she is so wrung out they fall from her mouth as more of a squeak. 

“Have something to do. Since  _ you _ wrecked my plans at the party.”

“Master!” She yelps as he goes to walk away from her. 

“Yes?” He turns back to face her, eyebrow quirked. “Was there something you needed love?”

She yanks frantically at the belt binding her hands above her head. “You can’t leave me here like this!”

“On the contrary my dear Doctor,” he replies with an air of arrogance, “You’re my property now; I can do whatever I want.”

The Doctor is too shocked to come up with a response as the Master casts his gaze over her trembling form. 

“Clean that up when you get out of that, will you?” He waves a hand at her midsection; his cum drying on her belly and the towel, the soaked sheets beneath her, and she thinks about ripping his throat out with her teeth as he walks off. 

He grabs his coat off the chair and leaves the apartment, the locks on the heavy front door clicking loudly into place. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so mean to her 😅


	4. Chapter 4

It takes the Doctor three times longer than it usually would to get out of the belt the Master had tied her to the headboard with. 

She spends a good half hour just lying there, shaking and desperate, twisting in sweat and slick-damp sheets, her inner thighs pressed together as she grinds her hips helplessly against nothing. 

When the fog in her head finally clears enough for her to think straight, it takes her another half hour of struggling with the thing with her arms twisted up above her head, getting increasingly frustrated, until she realises she can simply cross them over and turn round and up onto her knees so she can  _ see  _ what she’s doing. Her wrists are red raw by the time she forces herself to take a breath and actually  _ think _ about the way he had looped it round and buckled it rather than just yanking at it desperately.

The second she’s free, her hands are down between her legs, rubbing herself to a swift and frantic orgasm that leaves her shaking and aching even worse than she’d been before. 

She’s in heat, and her stupid body needs an alpha; nothing else will do. Not her own fingers, not the pillow she humps desperately, nose pressed into bedsheets that smell like  _ alpha _ , not the shower head aimed on her clit when she stands under it icy cold with cramps ripping through her abdomen. 

She manages to get dressed when she drags herself out of the shower, putting on two pairs of underwear, knowing one will be soaked through in seconds, and grabbing one of the Master’s navy shirts form the cupboard because she certainly isn’t putting either of the dresses back on.

Too hot for anything else, she traipses over to the sofa and collapses down, curling up with her knees drawn up and preparing herself for a very long and uncomfortable night. 

What she doesn’t expect however, is for her time alone to end so abruptly. She didn’t know what the Master was doing, but she expected him to be gone for several hours at least - and is surprised when just an hour and thirty eight minutes later, she lifts her head from her knees, nostrils flaring at the scent that suddenly fills them. She hears footsteps outside the apartment just seconds later, and then the jangling of a key in the lock like it’s being shoved in with frantic, fumbling hands. 

The door bursts open and the Master practically falls through it, slamming it shut with his back against it and standing there, panting hard.

The Doctor’s lips part as an intensely strong scent washes over her, and she stares at him where he stands, panting hard, his eyes wild and hair in disarray like he’d been running his hands through it in distress. His shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and even from across the apartment she can see sweat glistening on his skin, his chest heaving, and when her eyes jump downwards there is a bulge straining against the front of his trousers.

_ He’s in rut. _

“Alpha,” she utters, the word tumbling from her lips as she staggers to her feet.

“Stay back!” He holds up a hand, his eyes darting around frantically. “I - I didn’t mean to - to come back here…  _ fuck _ , shit, you smell good -“ he breaks off with a pained groan, sliding down the door with his back to it to crouch on the floor, fisting his hands in his hair. 

“Master,” she says - somehow her feet have carried her across the floor, and she falls to her knees in front of him. Her whole body screams for his, the scent of his rut driving her arousal up to unbearable heights, slick running down the inside of her thighs, soaking through both pairs of underwear she’d put on. 

His hands are still clenched in his hair with his head bowed, his knuckles white, and he is rocking, short low growls leaving his lips with every heavy breath. 

Like a moth drawn to a flame, the Doctor reaches out, touching a hand to his arm. It is tense - hard as a rock, and his whole body flinches as she touches him, and he lashes out, snarling as he lunges for her with teeth bared like a wild animal threatened.

She scrambles back on the floor, but she isn’t quick enough to evade him, and she’s pinned quickly, flat on her back with the Master’s teeth by her neck, his hands pinning her wrists down like vices and the hard bulge of his cock pressed into her.

He is trembling hard, his whole body shaking, and although there’s the thick, dizzying scent of his arousal, he is also giving off waves of distress that makes everything in the Doctor ache to soothe him. 

He is still against her a moment, panting in short fast puffs against her, still growling lowly in the back of his throat as his teeth just touch lightly to her skin. She doesn’t know whether he’s fighting against the urge to bite into her mating gland or tear her throat out, and worryingly, in that moment she thinks she would let him do  _ either. _

Still, as aroused and desperate for him as she is, his anxious state makes her ache deep inside - it feels  _ wrong - alpha is upset!  _ Her hindbrain wails inside of her,  _ comfort alpha, make alpha happy, take care of alpha… _

“Master,” she whispers again.

“I took blockers,” he finally speaks, a low growl by her neck, “this shouldn’t - I shouldn’t - this wasn’t the plan!”

“It’s okay,” she manages. 

“It’s not okay!”

His muscles tremble against her, and the Doctor licks her lips, summoning up her strength. She was furious at him for what he’d done to her - and he was  _ the Master  _ and everything between them was so… horrible and complicated. She had hated him for most of her lives (and probably loved him for all of them) but right now none of that mattered. She was in heat and he was in rut and he was  _ her alpha _ \- at the moment anyway, and all she wanted to do was make him feel better.

She turns her head, licking the side of his face, before she nibbles gently on his earlobe, purring somewhere in the back of her throat, a soothing sound she hoped would calm him as she wriggles beneath him. 

It starts working almost immediately. His growls get quieter, and his breathing starts to even put from the frantic puffs he’d been giving against her neck, and when she feels his hands loosen just a touch on her wrists, she presses a kiss to the side of his jaw.

“Let me have my hands,” she breathes softly. “Come on. I can make it better for both of us… let me make it better, alpha…”

Her use of his designation seems to be what does it, and, almost as if it’s without his own permission, he releases her wrists, planting his hands on the floor either side of her and pushing himself up enough to look down into her face instead. His gaze is still dark and his cheeks flushed with stress and arousal, but his eyes are wide as he watches her carefully, like he isn’t sure what she’s going to do next and is powerless to stop her.

She moves a hand to his neck, stroking her thumb soothingly over his mating gland as she slips the other down between their bodies and cups his straining erection, giving it a squeeze before stroking him through his trousers. There’s a little patch of damp that tells of precum already seeping from the tip, and she bites her lip as she wriggles beneath him, her own arousal thrumming so insistently through her body she can hear the frantic drum of her pulses in her ears. 

The Master is still motionless on top of her, and remains so as she slips her other hand down and unfastens his trousers, pushing them down so his hard cock is free, and then, wondering how long he’ll let her have control, she nudges at him, pushing him over, and climbing round so he is on his back on the floor instead of her. 

She quickly strips her soaked underwear off with shaking hands, then swings a leg over his hips so she is straddling him, and she lines his cock up with her entrance, then releasing a breath, she sinks down onto him. 

They both groan, and the Master’s hands go to her hips and grip her tightly, helping her to guide herself down onto him. 

“Omega,” he utters, voice rough and low. 

“Yes alpha,” she breathes, the unbearable ache within her easing already just by having him inside her. She lifts up and sinks back down, further this time so he is sheathed fully within her and she’s settled on top of him, and pauses there, both of them panting. 

She can already feel a thickness at his base, and knows his knot will swell quickly, and she should probably get on with fucking him properly before he knots her and they can’t move much, but for the moment, she’s quite content just to remain seated on him, letting sensations wash over her, the deep soothing relief of having an alpha finally inside her. 

The Master is gazing at her, eyes dark and lips parted, but there’s a clouded look of contentment on his face now that’s replaced the anxiety of before, and it soothes something deep within her.  _ Alpha is happy. Alpha is content now he’s inside you. You did good, omega. _

A little shiver goes through her, and she leans down, unable to resist nuzzling her nose into his neck, inhaling his scent where it is strongest. He turns his own head, arms coming up around her, and she hears him purr just quietly, nose nudging at her gland where he had bitten her much earlier that night, and then he nips her lightly, making her jump. 

She pushes herself up a bit, so she can look down into his face, and there’s a playfulness dancing in his eyes. The memories of their past - of the people they used to be when they were young and carefree and enamoured with each other comes back so suddenly her chest swells with a rush of emotion, and she finds herself smiling. 

“Hi,” she breathes. 

The Master gives a tiny buck of his hips, like he’s making fun of her, the playfulness extended to his mouth now which is curled upwards in a similar smile to her own. 

“Hi yourself,” he replies, and his voice is still hoarse, but there’s a smoothness to it now that lets her know he’s back in better control of himself. 

She huffs out a small laugh, and pushes herself upright on top of him, bracing her small hands on his chest before she starts to rock her hips, raising up a little before sinking down, letting herself bounce lightly on his cock. 

Eyes nearly rolling back in her head at the feel of him sliding in and out of her, the Doctor arches her back, letting herself moan as she moves, the Master’s hands tight on her hips. 

“Fuck you feel good,” he breathes, and she wonders at that fleetingly; that he’s letting her fuck him like this, letting her have all the control in their mating. It’s not supposed to be this way between alphas and omegas - and  _ definitely _ not while she’s in heat and he in rut. Rutting alphas were notoriously domineering and oftentimes aggressive… it wasn’t considered abnormal for an omega to be bruised and bleeding from an alpha’s teeth after they had mated them, body sore and wrung out and sometimes even worse. The Doctor doesn’t think she would have minded if he had taken her in such a way at this moment, but this… 

This feels like something different. Something  _ more _ . That strange ball of emotion rises again, right up in her throat this time as she catches his gaze and finds him watching her open-mouthed, and something within her makes her want to cling to him, claim him as her own and never let him go.    
It’s her omega instincts.  _ She knows that _ . But that doesn’t make the feelings any weaker as she rocks her hips, grinding down onto him. 

His knot is definitely swelling now, and the Doctor presses down on the next thrust, letting him sink fully into her. She leans back, squeezing her internal muscles around him, and the Master gives a hiss and a groan as she feels him stretch her, swelling fast within her until she tries to lift up again and finds she cannot. 

“Fuck,” he pants, figners flexing on her hips “Good - good omega…”

The praise has slipped from him unbidden, just like her whole body gives a shiver of delight at his words, but it is still potent, still makes more slick drip from her, sliding out between them into the slippery mess where they are joined. Planting his feet, the Master holds her still as his hips pump up into hers. They can’t move much now, but it doesn’t take long before the Doctor’s body is breaking apart with a scream, the orgasm rushing through her as the Master jerks up into her, coming inside of her. 

She collapses forward while he’s still coming, little jerks of his hips as she feels him spurt his hot seed deep into her, and she moans, dropping her head to his neck and breathing him in as she feels his cum fill her, all of her senses and needs well satiated, leaving her practically purring on top of him. 

“You’re so good,” he utters, and pushes hand into her sweaty hair, turning his head to nuzzle her. “Feel…  _ so _ good…”

He gives a little shudder, and there’s another flush of warmth inside her, and the Doctor moans softly, burrowing into him. 

_ Koschei _ , she thinks. She doesn’t say it, but she has a suspicion she thinks it loud enough for him to hear anway, and she’s too blissed out to be embarrassed about it. He  _ feels _ like Koschei in that moment - her friend and not _ the Master _ . It feels… like it had felt between them when they were young - she can scarcely remember that it’s not such a way anymore - why did it ever change? She’s with him and it feels  _ amazing _ , like everything in the universe is right...

Then he opens his mouth and speaks, and the Doctor remembers  _ exactly _ why things can’t be that way anymore. 

“Well,” he says as she lays panting into his neck, the frantic thrum of his double heartbeats against hers. “I think that was money well spent.”

It takes a frozen moment for the meaning of his words to sink in, but when they do, everything comes crashing down on her - who he is -  _ now _ , not millenia ago - what he’s done, how this situation actually came about, and the Doctor feels like an  _ idiot.  _

She pushes herself upright, staring down into his face with an open mouth, and he has the audacity to  _ grin _ up at her, biting his bottom lip as he gives a spiteful little buck of his hips up into her own. 

She slaps him. She only manages to get one hit on him - not for want of trying - the Master grabbing her wrists when she goes for him again, twisting her over onto her back when she continues to struggle against him. 

The cuff around her wrist digs into her skin where he holds her tightly, his knot is locked firmly inside of her, and furious tears string in her eyes. 

“Get off me!” She spits. 

“Would if I could without splitting you open right now love,” he grunts, using his weight to hold her down as she struggles beneath him. 

As livid as she is, she knows he’s right, and goes limp after a moment, turning her face to the side in an attempt to hide the tears as a desperate sob falls from her mouth. 

She thinks she feels him freeze a bit, and then his grip on her wrists slightly loosens as she sniffs, trying to get herself under control,  _ loathe _ to let him see her in a moment of weakness like this. 

The Doctor squeezes her eyes shut, just wishing the damn tears would  _ stop -  _ stupid hormones! - when suddenly she feels the Master shove his nose into her neck, lips dancing over her, sniffing at her until he seeks out her mating gland, and closes his mouth over it. 

She gasps, her whole body relaxing beneath his as he sucks at her, just like he had done before - except this time, with his knot already nestled inside her, rather than driving up the burning aching  _ need _ to have him, it just sends deliciously soothing waves of utter  _ pleasure _ through her body, until she is boneless and light-headed beneath him. 

She knows what he’s doing. Knows he’s soothing her this way because her distress is upsetting him, in the same way his earlier had affected her. She also knows that her body is wired to respond to it, and no matter how much she  _ knows _ she’s still angry at him - still  _ hates him _ \- she cannot prevent herself from letting it work. 

His teeth lightly brush her skin, just teasingly, but her whole body responds, a ridiculous urge to beg him to  _ bite her _ rising up inside her. 

She squashes it down, biting down hard on her own lip instead as he sucks on her gland for another moment, before he moves his head away. He rolls them onto their sides, settling her against him with a leg over his hips so his weight is not on top of her, and settles down there with a contented sigh. 

“Good,” he rumbles, voice sounding soft and content, as a hand comes up to her hair, fingers burying in it, rubbing lightly against her scalp. “Good omega.”

Something deep inside the Doctor still screams in fury at him, but his mouth and his knot have left her docile and content, and she feels too sleepy and calm as she burrows into his neck to fight it.

\--


End file.
